A single Heartbeat
by Gardner295
Summary: After a mysterious trip during Christmas, Widowmaker starts behaving differently. This does not escape Reaper's watchful eye. Meanwhile, Tracer is enjoying the holidays. [Spoilers from last Overwatch Comic] [Likely references to Widowtracer and other ships, like Pharmercy]
1. Chapter 1

**Hi. Long time no see. I've just come out of a long period. Let's say my will to write was not very strong. Reading the las OW comic sparkled that will back. I'm literally writing this on the go, so I've got nearly no idea how this story will evolve. Okay, not entirely true, I have a plot. But it's just the bare bones. Anyway here's the start hope you enjoy**

* * *

The air is cold. Snow is falling around, covering every stone with white.

Amélie is standing in front of a particular tomb, her freezing glare fixated on the name carved into the stone.

Her long, dark coat is covering her whole body. Not that she's feeling particularly cold, but she couldn't help but feeling naked in that place with her usual off duty clothes.

Besides, it helps from getting attention.

 _And here I am. Seems like you can't just leave me alone._

Amélie feels the letters are staring into her very soul, if she still has one.

Very slowly, she drops a rose on the tomb sweeping away some of the snow.

 _Lacroix_. That used to be her surname. The surname that her husband had given her. The husband that she killed in cold blood in their very bed.

"Gerard."

She can't even finish whispering before a piercing pain fills her chest.

Nearly collapsing on the ground, Amélie grabs her chest, grasping at her heart, trying to tear it away from her.

 _It hurts. It hurts so much._

*Ba-dump*

A single, powerful heartbeat rips her whole being. For a second, Amélie is overwhelmed by a mixture of weird sensations.

 _I am...feeling?!_

In an instant, her fear, anguish, sorrow and hate vanish, leaving the old Widowmaker gasping.

 _I shouldn't have come here._

With a last glance at the tomb, Amélie walks away from the cemetery, firmly holding the small gun hidden in her pocket, trying to keep away a weird sensation in the deepest corners of her head.

* * *

"'twas nice, wasn't it?"

Tracer is happily zipping around Emily, the two girls walking back home.

"Yes indeed. Who knew Winston was such a skilled cook?"

With a final jump Lena throws her arm around Emily's shoulders, squeezing her close.

"What are you doing?"  
"It's cold. Don't you want to warm up?"

The read headed girl smiles and kisses Lena on her cheek.

The streets are lit with Christmas decorations, restaurants and pubs full of people celebrating the holidays.

"I could really use a pint right now."

"Are you serious? We drank three whole bottles of wine early."

"Yes well, that was wine, not beer."

Both chuckling, the girls slowly cross Millennium Bridge.

The Thames is dirty as ever, with few boats surfing its waters.

Lena lets out a loud laugh.

 _This is the best Christmas ever!_

"What is it?"

Tracer turns, facing her girlfriend.

"Nothing luv. I love you."

Emily blushes, then leans on.

"Can you at least stop giggling while we kiss?"

"I'm sorry luv."

Soon they reach that familiar street.

"Lena dear, do you have the keys? I can't find'em."

"Yes, sure. Comin' right up."

With a burst of her cronal accelerator Lena opens the doorway and makes room for Emily.

"This way m'lady."

"Oh, what a charming prince!"

The girl laughs as she walks in, quickly pushing the elevator button.

Lena turn to the street, inhaling a last breath of cold air before joining Emily.

 _Wait a sec. What?_

Freezing on her steps, Tracer scans the deserted street.

Sounds and lights from other apartments are the only activity she detects.

 _I'd swear there was a black thingie in that corner..._

"Is something the matter Lena?"

"Nah, must've been a cat or somethin'"

Shrugging, the ex pilot enters the elevator and hugs Emily.

"Merry Christmas." She says.

"Merry Christmas to you."


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's another part of the story. Yesterday I went full salt mode about Tracer and her new relationship, but I quickly realized that it's indeed a very cute pairing, and one does not exclude the other. As I've said, I'm making the story as I write, so everything can change now.**

* * *

Sitting at a desk, Widowmaker is busy sorting pictures and maps.

A small holographic projector is flashing news on various channels.

She stumbles on a set of Overwatch members pictures.

 _I remember every meeting I had with them. I remember my time with Overwatch. And I remember my new actions. And yet, I feel nothing._

A picture of a girl in an orange jumpsuit meets her eye. Tracer is happily waving at the camera, her smile frozen in time by the shot.

 _Lena Oxton._ Widowmaker sighs. _You've been quite an annoyance these times. I wonder what you're doing when you're not busy bothering me._

Her thoughts go back to that night in London. Scoring the kill on Mondatta really gave her the thrill of being alive, if only for a couple minutes.

The face of that pest when she realized what had happened comes to her mind.

But instead of quiet satisfaction, Widowmaker senses something else.

A grip, she usually felt only for a particular event, manifests inside her.

 _She had such an heartbroken face. She really didn't know how to react._

"Are you wasting time again?"

The sudden voice surprises her. Doing her best not to show it, Widowmaker turns to meet an imposing, masked and hooded figure.

"What do you mean by that, Reaper?"

"You were supposed to recon important enemy agents last night. It was just a scout mission. You know, perfect job for a sniper."

Reaper is towering above her, a hand casually resting on one of his guns.

"Instead, you told Sombra you had an important matter to resolve and vanished. _I_ had to go out there."

Rolling her eyes, Widowmaker stands up and gathers all the pictures.

"So what? Can't suffer a bit of cold?"

"What was so important that you had to skip the mission?"

"What I do alone is none of your business, _bête._ "

"Careful Widowmaker." Reaper leans on, feeling the sniper's soft breath "Do you think your little bravado has gone unnoticed? I've seen you act strange. I've heard you mumbling stuff about Overwatch and Gerald."

"Don't you dare speak his..."  
"That life is over, Widowmaker. You better remember this. You are a Talon agent and nothing more. If you aren't fit for the job anymore I'm sure they will find someone to replace you. You have no time to waste on some stupid private errand."

"Because surely you didn't fly to LA last night, right?"

"Go. Away. Now!"

Giving him an angry look, Widowmaker leaves the room, quickly entering a recreational area of the base.

A few Talon agents are drinking together, watching some sort of sport transmission.

The sniper finds a lone seat and settles in a corner of the room, away from everyone.

Reaper was right about one thing. Recently she's experiencing more and more...things. Sensations and old memories she thought destroyed have begun resurfacing. For an instant, the woman feels a mixture of fear and hope, quickly obscured by an intense chest pain.

 _This again._ Widowmaker is doing her best to keep her cool, but she feels her heart is ready to explode.

*Ba-dump*

Another, full heartbeat fills Widowmaker's acute hearing.

 _What is happening to me?_

Her train of thoughts is stopped by a soft chirp.

Her PDA. A new message just arrived.

 _We have a new mission. You are to fly to London immediately and assess the situation_. _You do not have permission to engage, yet. New orders will be transmitted when in place. Do not fail us, Widowmaker. You are being evaluated._

Sighing, the French girl stands up.

 _Focus Widowmaker. This is no time for stupid thoughts._

* * *

"Lena please. Get off me."  
"Mffffggh."

After a couple seconds, Tracer realizes she's sleeping on Emily's stomach.

Clumsily getting up, she lets out a big yawn.

"Sorry love. G'mornin'"

"Good morning" giggles Emily, massaging her tummy.

Lena gets up and idly walks to the window.

Snow covers the roofs of London, its ancient buildings and modern skyscrapers mixing together.

"Oi Emily, Do you think that old bugger Stanley has finished painting his shop?"

"Don't know. Wanna head down and find out?"

Lena nods and trots out of the bedroom.

"I'm gonna make some coffee!" she yells from the kitchen.

"Please don't make the American one! I hate it!"

After an hour the two are walking the crowded streets of London.

Omnics and humans are hurrying to get the last presents.

Emily is wearing the green scarf Tracer gave her.

Her eyes full of joy, Lena spots a cat on a roof.

"Emily look! It's a fluffypaw!"  
"A what?" giggles her girlfriend.

"That! A fluffypaw!"  
"You mean that cat?"  
"Yeah, isn't he adorable?"

"Yes it is." Laughs the girl. "You seem to be pretty happy today, Lena Oxton."

Tracer activates her accelerator and dashes to kiss Emily.

"Yeah. I am."

* * *

 _Chat stupide! Go away!_

Widowmaker is frantically trying to get the cat away from her hiding on the roof.

The animal seems to be quite interested in her binoculars string.

 _You'll give out my position!_

After toying with the string for a bit, the cat meows in her direction and jumps away.

Squirming between two chimneys, Widowmaker grabs a scope and aims down the road.

 _There you are. Tracer. I hope you haven't been naughty this year..._

The first thing she notices is that the English girl is not alone.

She's hugging a cute, red headed girl. The two are pretty straightforward and tend to kiss often.

 _Pfft. What a ridiculous scene._

The sniper puts the scope on a sniper rifle and aims at Tracer's head.

 _It would be so simple. Just a second._

The happy face of Tracer comes in full view inside the scope.

Her eyes are like stars, constantly switching between the road and the girl next to her.

The read headed one has a deep, lovely expression on her face.

Widowmaker squirms. She used to constantly have that expression, a long time ago...

 _What the..._

Her mind goes blank.

She has visions. Memories she had buried deep in her mind.

 _Walking inside the Champ de Mars, everything white with snow._

 _Amélie is laughing at a stupid joke a man just told her. The man is firmly holding her hand. Her pink, warm hand._

" _Gerard" she says, turning to face him "this is the best Christmas ever."_

" _Oh, but the best is yet to come chérie. I have a surprise for you."_

 _The man produces a small blue box from his pocket..._

Figures, memories and feelings all mix together inside her, a torrent of emotions she forgot existed invading her.

" _Well, goodnight chérie."  
"Goodnight. Gerard."_

 _Amélie is listening carefully. After a couple minutes Gerard's breath begins to slow down. Without making a noise, she grabs her pillow and pushes on his face..._

 _STOP IT!_

Widowmaker snaps back to reality. She finds herself lying on the roof, the rifle not far from her.

*Ba-dump* *Ba-dump* *Ba-dump*

Her chest hurts like never before.

She can clearly hear her heart beating furiously, pumping so much blood around her body she can almost feel it.

Trying to regain control, Widowmaker grabs her rifle and starts aiming at random spots.

She ultimately finds Tracer yet again. The two girls are entering a shop called "Old Stanley's". They're laughing and hugging each other.

Her vision suddenly fogs up as something wet soak up her face.

 _Are these...tears?!_

Lowering her rifle, Widowmaker starts sobbing. She feels angry, sad, distressed. She had never felt like this before and it's making her crazy.

She's cold. Suddenly, her usual outfit seems too light for the weather. Crouching near a chimney, she starts shaking furiously.

 _Mon dieu. What have I done?_


	3. Chapter 3

**I've never released chapters this fast. I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

The screen flickers, the image slightly losing focus, then slowly stabilizes.

"Fascinating."

Inside his laboratory, Winston is fiddling with a wall mounted chronal accelerator. His desks are completely covered with notes and a couple chalkboards are filled with calculations.

 _If what I'm seeing is real, this is truly a fantastic discovery!_

He carefully cuts the power to the device, then writes off a couple notes.

 _This could rewrite entire chapters in quantum physics! I should contact the MIT..._

The ring of the telephone snaps him out of his reflections.

"Oi Winstooon! Hellooo!"

Tracer's voice explodes from the telephone.

"Hi Lena!"

"Winston, why are you still working? It's Christmas, you should relax for a bit, at least today!"

Winston smiles, glancing at the calendar.

"Dear Lena, You know how I am. Always curious. In fact, I believe I've made a fantastic discovery!"

"Oh, really?"

"Yes. You see, I was checking on one of the accelerators I have here. I wanted to test a theory and well...I've made a slight modification to the device."

"So? What did you find?"

"If my preliminary analysis are correct, this could very well be a different timeline. A different universe!"

"Whoaaa!"

"The system I've developed works only when two similar devices can communicate. In other words, it would appear that on the other side, there's another chronal accelerator modified just like the one here."

A second of pause.

"You mean there could be another Winston overworking in the other universe?"

"It could be, yes." Laughs the gorilla. "Lena, imagine the possibilities! The confirmation that parallel universes exist is something extraordinary! I must gather more data, I think I could send a small burst of..."  
"Wiiiinstoooon."

"All right, all right." Surrenders the scientist. "I will take a pause in my experiments. But I'll resume them as soon as the clocks ticks December 26!"

"That's so like you." Laughs Tracer. "Hey, why don't you drop by? We could have a walk around here."

"I'll try. Right now the base is in a complete mess. I need to fix a couple things. And before you ask: yes they are important."

"All right Winston. Take care."

"You two girls."  
"Oh and Winston? Merry Christmas!"

* * *

Hugging a pillow, Widowmaker is sobbing inside a bed. The clerk at the hotel desk didn't ask questions when she demanded a room. Probably her purple face wet with tears discouraged him to speak.

Something inside her has snapped and a whole hell of emotions has broken loose.

" _I don't know Ana. I'm more comfortable with a semi-auto rifle. I prefer a higher rate of fire in the missions I'm sent into."_

 _A young Ana Amari is sitting beside her, cleaning a very old, wooden bolt action rifle._

" _Ah but you see, with this I'm extremely precise. I prefer how a bolt action handles. And I like less jamming."_

" _Guess we are different agents."  
"indeed." _

*Ba-dump* *Ba-dump*

Her whole body is burning, not used to that much blood circulating through it.

Jumping from the bed, Widowmaker slams the bath door open and looks at herself in the mirror.

Removing her shirt she gapes at her body.

Whole patches of skin are colouring, turning from cold blue to an unhealthy pink.

She sits on the WC, gasping.

 _Pressing the pillow on Gerard's face, Amélie felt weird. She rationally registered what she was doing, but her emotions were numbed. She could barely hear a small part of her screaming in terror and agony, begging her to stop._

 _Gerard started moving as he tried to..._

Widowmaker blasts her eyes open.

 _This has to stop. I'm going to die. I can't take it anymore. I need control!_

Washing her face with warm water, the sniper forces herself to calm down.

Taking slow, deep breaths she manages to slow her heartbeat.

She's feeling dizzy, her limbs not responding correctly to her commands.

 _I need to get out of here._

* * *

 _I can't believe we're out of beer!_

Dashing at full speed with the accelerator, Tracer is desperate to find a market still open.

 _Where the hell am I going to find a shop open on Christmas?!_

The streets are not crowded: small groups of kids playing around in the snow, a couple walking alone, friends meeting in front of pubs.

Tracer quickly reaches The City, where she finds plenty of 24h open supermarkets.

 _I'm glad I found this brand. Emily loves it!_

Darting out of the market, Lena quickly thrusts herself in small alleys.

 _Bloody hell. The accelerator's already down! 'ave to tell Winston 'bout this._

Lena starts walking to the nearest Tube station, breathing in the cold Christmas air.

Before she can turn a corner, a slender figure stops on her tracks.

"'Sup mate? I'm afraid I can't stop. You know, Christmas dinner, stuff like that."

 _Wait a second..._

Donning a heavy, dark coat and a wide brimmed hat, a purple woman with pink marks is panting right in front of her.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" yells Lena, arming her guns and pointing them at Widowmaker.

"I'm not here to hurt you." The sniper's whisper is barely audible. "I need help. Bring me to a doctor, s'il te plaît." _You have no reason to help me, but please don't let me die here._ Feeling her vision clouding, Widowmaker collapses on the ground, hearing nothing but her fast heartbeat.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi. The first half of this chapter is a bit filler-y, but I just couldn't let the occasion pass. Hope you like it.**

* * *

"You did _what?!"_

Mercy is staring at her field communicator, both hands on the desk.

A gorilla with glasses is fidgeting on screen.

"Doctor Ziegler, please. Now it's not the time..."

"This could very well be a trap! Have you both gone mad?"

The Swiss doctor sits on a stool.

"Okay. Let's say this is not a trap and Widowmaker really is dying. How am I supposed to help you? I'm not even in Europe!"

Winston frowns.

"I have medical equipment inside the base. I thought you could guide me with the procedures."

"Winston. You really don't look like a medical bot. Also, I should see her, I can't just..."  
"Ah, but I have brought pictures! And a full analysis of her body. Sending now."

The screen blinks as Mercy opens the data.

"This is...uh. This seems to be the real deal."

"So? Will you help?"

Mercy snorts.

"All right Winston. I'll see what I can do. First of all, you're going to need some morphine..."

* * *

After the call, Winston quickly thanks the doctor and cuts the line, hurrying to get all the medicines and machinery Mercy has suggested.

Feeling suddenly tired, Mercy collapses on her small bed, staring at the roof of her tent.

 _What the hell was that?_

Sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes catch a piece of paper with a quill on it.

Smiling, she grabs the letter, re-reading some of the passages.

 _He can be such a dork sometimes._

"Doctor Ziegler?"

A nurse appears in front of her tent.

"The base commander wants that report on yesterday's raid. He asked me to remind you."

"Oh yes. I've already written it. I was about to send it to him. Thank you nurse."

Slowly getting up, Mercy walks to the computer, moving her firm hands on the keyboard.

 _It's almost time. The plane should have arrived by now._

As she finishes sending the report, an alarm on the desk goes off, bright red numbers showing the time.

Feeling her heart pounding, Mercy quickly activates the communicator and dials in the first registered number.

The screen is blank, save for a large icon shaped like a telephone.

After a couple seconds, the face of a young woman in uniform with a tattoo on her eye fills the communicator's display. The insides of Cairo International Airport can be seen on the background.

"You're so precise. As always, Angela."

"Pharah!" showing her best smile, Mercy takes a step closer to the screen.

"How are you? How was the trip?"

"Pretty good. Dad was really happy. We had a nice Christmas."

The Egyptian soldier smiles melancholically.

"He asked about mom."

Mercy lowers the gaze.

"She still doesn't want to talk to him, right?"

"No." Pharah sighs "Come on, it's been years. Oh, she's so stubborn."

The doctor giggles. "Just like you, Pharah."

Fareeha smiles, blushing a bit.

"Well, after this incredibly clichéd conversation, I'd like to know how are you and how was your Christmas."

"Nothing special. I'm fine, as always. I've spent the whole 24th night sewing back limbs and patching bullet holes. Just another day at the office."

"I'm sorry, Angela."  
"Don't be. You had a nice holiday with your father. And now you're coming back. To me. I can't wait to see you."

"Sometimes you scare me, doctor Ziegler."

"You should be scared of what I'm gonna do to you tomorrow night if you don't get back safe, captain Amani."

Both chuckling, the two women share a moment of silence, staring at each other through the screen.

"Oh, Pharah? Genji sent me a letter."

The gorgeous features of Pharah's face immediately stiffen as the girl frowns.

"A letter. What did he say?"

Mercy laughs, taking the letter and putting it in front of the camera for Pharah to see.

"It was just a Christmas letter. See?"

Fareeha snickers. "He sent you a _paper_ letter? Oh, boy."

He's such a nice guy. He even wrote 'Merry Christmas'. Could you believe it? A monk lost somewhere in Nepal wishing Merry Christmas."

The girl inside the communicator squints.

"I also read 'I'd like to let you know that Zenyatta-sensei has agreed to a visit. If you wish, you can join us on January, as we will have finished renovating the temple."

Mercy smiles.

"Yes, I know."  
"What did you tell him?"

"I told him nothing. I was about to ask you if you were so kind to accompany me. I do need to check on his implants and it's always good to see him and Zen."

Pharah sighs, then nods.

"All right, I guess. If we can spare some time next month, we could visit them for a day."

"Just a day? Oh, Fareeha..."  
"And if he tries anything I'll send him to whatever place he calls heaven with a rocket right up..."  
Mercy quickly mutes the device, laughing.

"Pharah. You're adorable when you're jealous." She smiles.

"I'm not jealous!" screams the girl. Behind her, a couple tourists inside the airport squirm at the yelling.

Laughing even more loudly, Mercy stands up.

"I have to go now. My turn begins in ten minutes. I'm so happy we're going to be together tomorrow."

"I love you." She says, sending a kiss to the screen.

Pharah smiles, her features softening.

"I love you too, zschaten."

"It's schätzen my dear." Giggles the doctor.

"Whatever. See you soon."

* * *

 _With a bright light right on her face, Amélie is blind._

 _She's lying on a hard, cold surface. Strong grips lock her limbs in place._

" _This is incredible. Imagine the possibilities."_

 _A voice. She can't tell who or where that person is, but she can feel it's close._

" _I'm afraid this will hurt a bit, Amélie. But you are strong, aren't you?"_

" _Yes."_

 _Her voice comes out without her consent. A shiver runs through her back._

" _You may commence when ready."_

 _Strange sounds of machinery fill her ears. Something very cold and sharp is put on her head and chest._

" _Welcome to Talon, Widowmaker."_

 _A sudden, excruciating pain blocks everything out of the woman._

 _She feels like something is drilling inside her body._

 _As she feels her force leaving, she muster all her willpower to let out a long, terrible scream of agony._

"Hey, calm down! You want to die after everything we've done?"

Widowmaker opens her eyes.

She's in a small, white room. She's lying inside a bed, soft blankets covering her.

Right in front of her, Tracer is standing with a worried face.

"I...uuuh..."

"Can you understand me?"

The sniper slowly nods, trying to focus.

"Où suis-je ?"

"What?"

"Where…am I?"

"You're in my house."

Winston enters the room, carrying a small box.

Feeling suddenly scared, Widowmaker tries to move.

"Oh, no no! Don't move love!"Tracer quickly stops her squirming. "That's the last thing you'd want to do right now."

Turning to face her, Widowmaker sees a tube coming out of her arm.

"It's for regulating your blood pressure." Explains Winston.

"Apparently you had an extremely slowed heartbeat and a weird pressure. Your heart suddenly started to pump with full force and was about to explode. Also that much blood was killing your organs."

The sniper nods, focusing on the blood running in the tube.

The arm it's taken from is different from the last time. It has a slighter different shade of purple. Warmer, it would seem.

"Why...why did you save me?"

"Because that's what the good guys do! I can throw you out if you wish, I don't have any problems with it."

"Lena please, she needs to rest."

"Yes of course! But so do I! I was about to spend a nice evening with Emily! But no, this girl had to show up and go 'please save me'." Tracer's face is red. Widowmaker has never seen her like that.

"What do you want? Why the people around you must only suffer?"

"Lena!"

Widowmaker squirms.

 _She's right. I've caused nothing but sorrow. Why am I even here._

While she's thinking that, she tries to make a bold face.

"I'm sorry chérie. Seems like I'm nothing but a nuisance to you. Trust me, I'll leave as soon as possible so you can return to your...Emily?"

"Leave her alone!"

"Okay that's enough you two! Lena please, I've everything under control. Go home."

"Are you sure, Winston?"

"Yes. After all, she's sedated. She won't go anywhere soon."

Without even turning, Tracer stomps out of the room.

"You have a lot of nerve to ask for help _here_." Says Winston as soon as the girl is gone.

"I very well hope you're not planning anything."

Widowmaker stares at him.

"I hope so too." She says softly.

Sighing, the scientist walks to the door.

"Now get some rest. Tomorrow we'll have to do some tests. I'm locking all accesses to this room, just in case."

As soon as the door closes, the lights turn off.

Widowmaker sighs, then closes her eyes.


End file.
